Flight, Missing Scene
by Anne Murdoch
Summary: Just what it says. :


The sentinel stood on the balcony, watching the sunset cast copper-colored reflections on the glass of the city. The air was warm and almost spring-like, and it felt good to be home again. Blair stood beside him silently, perhaps waiting for him to speak. No, he couldn't talk about it yet. The mystical aspects of the journey had just begun to sink in. In the jungle, when the panther had become a man, Jim had not been startled. It was almost as if he had known about it somewhere deep inside himself. The decision to step off the cliff had been difficult, but at the same time it seemed inevitable that he would. Perhaps the decision had been made before he was even asked. That was the part he was having a hard time dealing with.

All of his life Jim had believed that he was in control of his own destiny. Reality was based on the concrete. Belief for him required evidence. If he chose to believe that the panther/shaman in the jungle was real, then he would have to admit that his whole concept of the universe was wrong. He didn't know if he was prepared to do that. It would be easier to believe that it was just a hallucination, but he knew in his soul that this thing had really happened. But where? Had he been on another plane of existence, or did everything happen in a split second in his mind? If spirit guides were possible, then what else was? Was there some higher purpose to Jim's existence, a master plan executed by some omnipotent being? The questions made his head spin. It had been hard dealing with his abilities before, when he had believed that they were the result of a freak genetic accident. To believe that they were supernatural in nature was worse because it meant loss of control, and in a sense, loss of freedom.

And what about Blair? If Jim had been destined to become a sentinel, had Blair been destined to become his guide? The past few months with the anthropologist had been difficult at times. It seemed as though they had nothing in common but an interest in his senses. From the very first, though, Blair had been an important part of his abilities. He had saved Jim's life soon after they had met, and probably more times than he realized since then. In his dream, the first night in the jungle, he had immediately noticed that his friend was missing. It had seemed urgent to find him, almost as if his life depended on it. Was that what the dream meant? Anxiety about his partner's possible departure had been present all the time that he was in Peru. When the panther had attacked him, did it mean that he could not survive without Blair?

Blair wasn't leaving, though. It dawned on him then that his friend had made a great sacrifice for him. He had given up the opportunity to go on an expedition with someone he highly respected, to do something he had been working towards in his anthropological studies, in order to stay with Jim. Blair had said that it was about friendship. Jim tried to recall when anyone had given up something that important for him. No one ever had. What else had Blair done in the name of friendship? Following Jim out of the plane and into the jungle, for one. Blair must have lead a fairly safe life until he met Jim, but he had rarely complained about the dangerous situations they'd been in.

The sentinel turned to thank his guide and discovered that Blair was no longer standing beside him. His heart skipped a beat until he glanced into the loft and saw the anthropologist hard at work making dinner. As he watched Blair chop vegetables in the warm glow of the kitchen light, everything seemed so normal that it should have been easy to forget the events in Peru, to just push them away like a fading dream and pretend to lead an ordinary life. But that would be impossible, now. Things had changed irrevocably, and a little of the stability that Jim had worked so hard to achieve had gone out of his life. At least he had Blair to help put things into perspective.

A chill breeze blew against him and he looked out towards the city again. Lost in thought, he had failed to notice the sun going down and the lights of the skyscrapers blinking on. An almost full beer had warmed in his hand. Unfamiliar smells began to waft through the doors as the sentinel entered the loft. Tonight, though, Jim would not complain about Blair's cooking.

*** The End ***

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Written 11/96, Minor Updates 11/97

DISCLAIMER: This story contains characters, situations and places from the TV show "The Sentinel" which is the creation of Danny Bilson and Paul De Meo and belong to Paramount Pictures & Pet Fly Productions, and have been used without permission. No copyright infringement is intended. This story is not to be published on any ftp site, newsgroup, web page, mailing list, fanzine or elsewhere without the express permission of the writer. This story is written for the fans of "The Sentinel" who believe that once a week just isn't enough!

I've had this kicking around for quite a while, and since some nice people have asked for it, I thought I'd share. This was a kind of stream-of-consciousness thing that I wrote after I'd seen the ep. If some of it looks familiar, that's because I snagged a section of it for 'Trial by Fire'. This scene takes place after the end of the episode, when Jim and Blair are on the balcony having a beer.

by Anne Murdoch


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